


Triangle

by starbuckscully



Category: Superfiles, Supernatural
Genre: 1930s, Episode Remix, M/M, Season/Series 08 Spoilers, The X Files - Freeform, Time Travel, Wizard of Oz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbuckscully/pseuds/starbuckscully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas gets stuck in 1939 with a pair of hunters named Dorothy and Toto and a cast of characters who bear an uncanny resemblance to his friends in the present day. Meanwhile in 2013, Dean has been searching for Cas without success since the angels fell from heaven. When Charlie shows up at the bunker with a solid but peculiar lead, Dean scrambles to get the intel they need to find him.</p><p>A reworking of The X-Files episode 6x03 "Triangle" inspired by the spoilers that Supernatural 9x04 will also include scenes from the 1930s and references to The Wizard of Oz. Follows the original episode fairly closely with modifications to fit into the Supernatural universe.`</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triangle

**Author's Note:**

> In which Cas is Mulder, Dean is Scully, Charlie is the Lone Gunmen, Sam is Skinner, Kevin is Jeffrey Spender, Abaddon is the Cigarette Smoking Man, demons are the Nazis, hunters are the British sailors, Kansas is the Atlantic Ocean, and nothing is quite as it seems.

Cas feels a throbbing pain in his head and something kicking him in the shins. He opens his eyes and sees tall stalks of corn towering over him. Two figures lean into his frame of vision. He squints and the faces of a man and woman come into focus. They are young, dressed in casual flannels, and the woman is carrying a shotgun. She reaches a hand down toward Cas.

“Easy! Steady up,” the woman cautions as she helps him to his feet.

Cas coughs and leans weakly against some cornstalks.

“There he goes. Lots of life in him!” the man declares.

“What are you doing in these parts?” the woman asks. “You a demon, pal?”

“He doesn’t look like much of anything,” the man observes, taking in Cas’s grimy trench coat and rumpled suit.

The woman quickly pulls a vial from her pocket and splashes water in his face. Cas backs away, stumbles, and looks up at her forlornly through wet bangs.

“Not a demon, then. But what’s he doing here?” the woman challenges. “In this place at this time?”

“Maybe he got hit by a car. Or maybe he’s a rat and we throw him back like a rat,” the man suggests.

“Right,” the woman agrees. “Well, let’s go, Toto.”

“Hey,” Cas murmurs. “Toto?”

“It’s, uh, a nickname,” Toto says sheepishly. “My real name is Tobias, but her name is Dorothy and…” He trails off, as if the connection is self-evident.

Cas tilts his head and narrows his eyes, confused.

“Who are you then?” Dorothy demands.

“Castiel,” he replies. “My name’s Castiel.”

“That’s a name?” Toto says disbelievingly.

“I’m an angel,” Cas declares. “Well, I was an angel.”

“Angel? Ha! That’s a new one!” Dorothy scoffs.

“You’ve never heard of angels?” Cas asks in surprise.

“Sure, everybody’s _heard_ of them,” Dorothy says. “Fluffy wings, halos. But they’re not real.”

“Angels are warriors of God,” Cas corrects with a stern look.

Toto smirks and glances at Dorothy. “He’s a strange one. I say we keep him. He could have more information than he’s letting on.”

Dorothy gives Cas an assessing look and shrugs. “Okay, let’s get him in the car.”

“I’m a soldier - ” Cas starts to pronounce.

“Why don’t you shut up, feathers, before we change our minds and abandon you here,” Dorothy growls.

Toto grabs Cas roughly and leads him to a vintage car pulled off to the side of the road. It’s a classic model, several decades older than Dean’s beloved Impala. Dorothy opens a back door and Toto shoves Cas inside.

“Where are you taking me?” Cas asks once they’re on the road.

“How’s about you shove a cork in it, all right?” Dorothy calls back.

After a few minutes they pull into a small, old timey town. The buildings are wooden and quaint. Dorothy parks in front of what appears to be a saloon. A sign over the door reads _The Queen Anne_. Cas can hear raucous laughter and music emanating from within. Toto yanks Cas up and out of the car. They follow Dorothy inside.

It takes a few minutes for Cas’s newly human eyes to adjust to the dark, smoky interior. His captors lead him to a back corner where a tall man with long hair and a confident bearing is sitting at a table.

“Sam??” Cas blurts out in surprise.

The man who appears to be Sam looks back at Cas blankly.

“What’s this about?” Sam asks the others.

“Found him by the side of the road,” Toto answers. “Don’t know nothing about him. I think he’s working with the demons.”

“Bring him here,” Sam commands. Toto pushes Cas down into a seat at the table.

Suddenly Sam thrusts a glass of water at Cas’s face, catching him unawares and dousing him once again.

“Enough!” Cas sputters. “I’m not a demon or working with demons! I’m just looking for my friends! They’re hunters.”

Sam raises an eyebrow skeptically. “What’s this about hunters?”

“I- I’m trying to get to the Winchesters. Dean and Sam. Sam looks just like you, it’s uncanny… They’re in the Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon, Kansas - ”

“Stop right there,” Sam interrupts. “You know about the Men of Letters?” He exchanges an apprehensive look with Dorothy and Toto.

“He must be a spy!” Toto hisses. “How else could he know about you lot?”

“That’s a damn good question,” Dorothy muses. “And I’m waiting for a damn good answer.”

“I’ll tell you. I can explain!” Cas tries to assure them. “You see, Dean and Sam’s grandfather was a Man of Letters back in the 1950s - ”

“Back in the 1950s?” Sam stops him. “What year do you think this is, man?”

“2013, of course,” Cas answers flatly.

The others stare back at him.

Finally Dorothy turns away and faces Sam. “This man is mad!”

“I’m done fooling around,” Sam says sternly. He leans over the table and glares down at Cas menacingly. “The country’s about to go to war. There’s a Knight of Hell after our asses. And in it or not, I don’t plan to waste my time on a jackal like you.”

“What?” Cas tries to make sense of what the man who looks like Sam is saying. “But Abbadon is the last Knight of Hell, and she's without a vessel. And there's no war - the Americans are leaving Afghanistan…”

“Afghanistan!” Sam laughs. “Why would America go to war over that sand pit? It’s September 3rd, 1939, man! Hitler has entered Poland. And the Knights of Hell are very corporeal, I assure you. A bunch of Abbadon’s goose-stepping hooligans just showed up here in Cora. We thought you were one of them.”

Cas is stunned to silence. The bar’s door swings open and a young man who looks like Kevin comes running toward them. Cas blinks in disbelief. Surely this is too much to be mere coincidence.

“Excuse me,” Kevin says, pushing past Cas. He opens his mouth as if to say something to Sam, but hesitates, unsure whether to speak in front of the stranger.

“It’s all right - just some poor mental case,” Sam says.

Kevin nods. “It’s the demons. They’ve been spotted on Bridge Road on course for White Rock.”

“Not on my watch,” Sam announces. “Lock the lunatic up in back.”

Toto jerks Cas out of his seat again and drags him to a room in the rear of the saloon. He tosses Cas in and slams the door shut behind him. Cas slumps to the floor, dejected. He hears the sound of a turning key and receding footsteps.

After a few minutes, Cas pushes himself up and looks around the small room he’s been left in. It appears to be a storeroom for the bar. Shelves line the walls, stacked with an assortment of liquors and pickled foods in glass jars. There's a lone window high up in the back, too small for an escape. On one of the shelves at chest height, Cas finds an old fashioned radio. He turns it on and scans the dial.

> _The British ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note stating that unless they heard from them that they are prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between them. No such undertaking has been received. Consequently, as of today, September 3, 1939, the United Kingdom is at war with Germany…_

“This is not good,” Cas mutters to himself. He stares straight ahead in shock, trying to take in the fact that he has traversed back in time over seventy years.

The sound of the doorknob rattling breaks his reverie.

“Hello? Are you in there?” a man calls out as he steps slowly into the storeroom. “Is anybody in there? Hello?”

The intruder blinks and his eyes turn to solid black. A demon. Cas presses himself flat against the shelves, hoping to blend into the shadows of the dimly lit room. He reaches quietly for the heavy radio. As the demon steps past him, Cas jumps out and strikes him once hard in the head with the radio. The demon crumples to the floor.

Once he’s down, Cas isn’t sure what to do with him. He knows he won’t be out for long. He sorely misses being able to smite any monster in his path. Being human is inconvenient. But perhaps he can turn this encounter to his advantage. The Sam and Kevin look-alikes will be looking for him if he escapes, not to mention those aggressive people – probably hunters – who found him. With some reluctance, he takes off his trench coat, folds it neatly, and places it on a shelf. He sizes up the unconscious demon. He’s wearing gray pants with a white button shirt, burgundy cardigan, and light blue jacket. Well, it was about time for a change of clothes now that he’s human, right?

Some minutes later, Cas steps out in his new attire, carefully shutting the door to the storeroom behind him. He walks steadily toward the exit, making eye contact with no one.

“Hey, have you found something?” someone yells behind him. Cas isn’t sure if the man is addressing him, but he picks up his pace anyways.

“Stop! Don’t you hear?” the person shouts. “Have you found something? Wait!”

“Turn around!” a second person chimes in. “It’s not him!”

Cas makes it to the door and breaks into a run. He doesn’t have a destination; he just knows he has to get away. He’s outnumbered and vulnerable now without his powers. He chances a look over his shoulder and sees the two demons from the bar speeding after him. He darts down an alleyway and knocks over a stack of wooden crates to block the way behind him. When he gets to the next street over, he scans the surrounding buildings for a hiding place. Another bar, _Miss Gulch’s_ , catches his eye from a block away. He makes a last sprint and bursts through the doors, careening directly into one of the patrons and spilling his beer.

“Hey!” the man exclaims. He turns around and Cas is shocked to see the exact likeness of Dean looking back at him.

“Dean?” Cas grabs him by the shoulders.

“I suggest you get your paws off me, pal, before you get one in the kisser,” Dean says angrily, brushing Cas off.

“Dean, it’s me, Castiel!” Cas tries to explain. “Don’t you recognize me?”

Dean side eyes him while taking a long sip from what remains of his beer. “Oh, sure. You just happen to match the description of a demon I’m hunting, right?”

Cas looks down at his clothes, realizing his mistake. “I had to... borrow these to get away. I- I left my coat in the Queen Anne. If you want, you can pour holy water on me - everyone else has. Dean?”

He reaches out and puts a hand on Dean’s arm again and looks up at him pleadingly. Dean frowns then turns as a commotion starts up at the entrance to the bar.

The two demons from the other saloon push their way through the crowd and grab Cas harshly.

“You see?” Cas implores. Dean’s eyes widen as he realizes that the men accosting Cas are demons themselves. He scans the scene around him, evaluating the situation.

The demons drag Cas out the back and slam him hard up against the brick wall. Black splotches dot Cas’s vision and he struggles to stay standing.  Before he has a moment to rest, they grip him on both sides and escort him through alleyway after alleyway, winding their way through the town.

Eventually they end up on a desolate street with boarded up storefronts and a gathering of dark figures standing in the shadows. The man Cas had thought was Sam is among them. Goons with guns stand guarding him on either side.

“I won’t take you there!” Sam announces defiantly. “You can put me down, man, but I won’t give it to you till we meet in hell!”

“Shoot him,” a woman with her back to Cas commands. The voice sounds familiar.

“You…” Cas says softly. The woman turns around and confirms Cas’s suspicion. Abaddon.

“Wait.” Abaddon raises a hand to pause the proceedings. “Who’s this?”

“He beat up one of the others and stole his clothes,” one of his handlers replies. “He’s a spy.”

Abaddon looks Cas over skeptically. “Where’s the artifact?”

“What artifact?” Cas asks.

“The third artifact, from White Rock,” Abaddon continues. “We have everything else, but the hiding place of the final piece still eludes us. You know the location, do you not?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cas replies stubbornly.

Abaddon shrugs and turns on her heel. “Shoot him too.”

One of the demons raises a gun to Cas’s head.

“Wait!” Cas pleads. “Why are you shooting me? I’m an angel! At least, I was an angel. You can’t just kill me!”

Abaddon waves off the gunman. “You _were_ an angel?” she repeats. “What an odd claim. Not likely to have any truth to it, of course. Still, could be useful.”

She turns and walks toward one of the abandoned buildings. She calls out behind her, “Bring them with us!” 

 

~*~

 

Dean taps his fingers absently on his beer bottle as he leans against one of the long tables in the Men of Letters bunker. He stares without focus into the middle distance. Suddenly, alarm bells sound to signal that someone has entered the bunker. He looks up to see Charlie bounding toward him.

“Dean!” She nearly tackles him as she takes him in a warm hug.

“Charlie! What are you doing here?” he asks.

She steps back and bites her lip. Finally she looks up into Dean’s eyes. “Cas is in trouble,” she announces.

“You have news on Cas??” Dean can hardly believe it. They’ve been searching for Cas ever since the angels fell. Well, searching is putting it strongly – with hardly any leads, it feels more like aimless wandering.

She nods. “Big trouble.”

“What do you mean?” Deans asks worriedly.

“He was spotted in Northwest Kansas,” she replies. “Then he disappeared.”

“Disappeared how?” Dean asks.

“Just, disappeared,” Charlie says. She pulls out a stack of black and white photos from her canvas side bag and hands them over to Dean.

“I don’t understand,” he says, flipping through them. He sees a disheveled looking Cas in a parking lot in one of the prints and his heart skips a beat. The others appear to be mainly random shots of lonely stretches of highway. “What am I looking at?”

“The facial recognition software I wrote got a hit last night from a gas station security camera,” Charlie explains. “He was just walking, it looks like. So I followed him through a series of traffic cameras until he, well, vanished.”

“Couldn’t he have taken a turn? Or got picked up by a hitchhiker?” Dean asks.

Charlie shakes her head. “There aren’t any connecting roads in that interval, and hardly any cars. I examined them all in the traffic snap shots and didn’t see any new passengers.”

“There's something missing,” Dean protests.

“Camera doesn’t lie,” Charlie insists.

“So you think he just, I don’t know, stopped somewhere?” Dean asks. The worry that Cas might be hurt and unable to continue pokes at the back of his mind, but he refuses to give voice to it.

“Maybe…” Charlie replies slowly. “It’s a weird area.”

“What do you mean?” Dean looks at her curiously.

“It’s, like, the Bermuda Triangle. Of Kansas.” Charlie looks up at Dean almost apologetically.

“The Bermuda Triangle _of Kansas_??” he repeats incredulously.

“Yeah, I read about it online,” Charlie explains. “It contains the geographic center of the contiguous United States. People have gone missing there. And there was this one guy who randomly showed up one time and thought it was the year 1939. People thought he was just an amnesiac, but…” Charlie trails off and shrugs.

“What’s happened to Cas?” Dean asks.

“We can’t know. Not without more information,” Charlie replies. “Which is why I’m here.”

“Well, we have to help him,” Dean says, trying to sound confident. “What do you need?”

“We’ve got to determine the boundaries of that triangle so we can map where Cas crossed over. Without that, he’s a needle in a haystack,” she explains. “We should ask Sam for help with the research. I know you two had a falling out recently, but I’m sure the Men of Letters has some records that he’d know about.”

Dean nods. “Okay. You get set up with your laptop and keep looking for anything on the internet. I’ll talk to Sam.”

Dean walks purposefully up the stairs and down the hall to Sam’s room. He knocks on the door.

“I'm busy!” Sam calls out.

“This can’t wait!” Dean yells back.

“I’m on the phone!” Sam shouts in turn.

Dean rolls his eyes and opens the door anyways. Sam looks up with a face of pure exasperation as Dean bursts into the room. He’s stretched out on his bed with his cell phone to his ear.

“Could you hold on a minute?” Sam says into the receiver. “What is it, Dean?”

“I just got some very bad news,” Dean announces. “And I need your help.”

Sam looks to the ceiling as if praying for patience. “I’ll call you back in five.” He ends the call. “You can’t just come rushing in here!”

“Yeah yeah, whatever, Sammy,” Dean says dismissively.

“Okay fine - tell me what is so urgent,” Sam says with clear annoyance. He stands up and faces his brother with arms crossed.

“It’s about Cas,” Dean says.

“Dean - ” Sam starts in a warning tone.

“He might be lost in the northwest part of the state,” Dean explains.

“Dean, not again,” Sam says. “I can’t help you.”

“This isn’t for me, it’s for Cas!” Dean protests.

Sam sighs loudly. “How many wild goose chases have you taken me on already looking for Cas? The result is always the same. I’m done indulging you.”

“This time is different!” Dean insists. “Don’t you want to know what this is about?”

“No, Dean, I don’t,” Sam says, angrily this time. “I don’t even want to hear it.”

“But it’s _Cas_ ,” Dean pleads.

“It’s always Cas!” Sam snaps back. “Except that it’s not. If he’s out there and wants to find us, he will. Has it occurred to you that maybe he doesn’t want to be found? You’re out of line, Dean.”

“No, Sam, you’re out of line,” Dean exclaims furiously, frustrated as usual that he can't come up with a better comeback. “Look, I’m coming to you for help and I’ve got nowhere else to go. I would hope that after everything we’ve been through that you would at least have the decency - and not to mention the respect - to listen to what your own older brother has to say. All I need is information. You don’t have to do anything else.”

Dean hands him the pile of photos from Charlie. “He was last spotted near the Bermuda Triangle of Kansas, whatever that is. Look, Sam, you know the library here better than anybody. If you could just take a look, it would really help.”

Sam puts the photos down on his desk. “He doesn’t appear to be in any danger here. How do you even know he’s missing? This could be a trap! Use your head, Dean, it’ll save your ass.”

“Save your own ass, Sam. You’ll save your head along with it!” Dean turns and storms out of Sam’s room, slamming the door behind him.

Dean marches down the hallway in a huff and turns into his own room. He paces back and forth, chastising himself for being so foolish. He raises his hands in a gesture of frustration. Then an idea occurs to him.

“What am I thinking? What am I thinking!” he exclaims to himself.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I pray to Castiel, to get his feathery ass down here. Or if you can’t do that anymore, um, respond in some angel-y way…”

Dean opens one eye and peeks around. Nothing. He closes his eyes tight again. “Come on, come on, _come on_! Answer me, Cas! Answer me. Where are you, man?”

When there is still no reply, Dean throws himself down on his bed in discouragement. “Damn!”

Suddenly another idea strikes him and he jumps back to his feet. He strides quickly down the hall and leaps up the stairs two at a time. He bursts into another bedroom and Kevin looks up from his desk in surprise.

“I want you to do me a favor,” Dean declares roughly. “It’s not negotiable. Either you do it or I toss you back to Garth's. You understand?”

“You okay, Dean?” Kevin asks. He gets up and walks over to Dean, looking at him curiously.

“No, I’m not,” Dean replies sharply. “I’m a gun ready to go off so don’t test me, kiddo.”

“What is it that you need?” Kevin asks.

“Bermuda Triangle of Kansas. Location on a map and the point of intersection with the highway going into Cora,” Dean tells him. “Look for missing persons reports, anything out of the ordinary, especially in 1939.”

“1939?” Kevin repeats.

“Don’t ask too many questions,” Dean tells him. “I don’t care what you do or who you do or who you have to threaten, I need that information and I need it now. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Kevin replies sullenly.

“And if you’re not back in a hurry, whiz kid, I am going to hunt you down, and so help me…” Dean threatens him through gritted teeth.

“Right,” Kevin says. He leaves the room, muttering something under his breath about how _that guy really needs to get laid._

Dean plops down in Kevin’s desk chair and leans it back as far as it will go. He stares at the ceiling, his mind racing. What kind of trouble has Cas gotten himself into this time? A Bermuda Triangle, like a time warp? Was Cas trapped in another time? Or just lost in the Great Plains backcountry? Or was it like Sam said, and he doesn’t even want to be found?

His cell phone rings and Dean leaps to his feet and digs the phone out of his pocket.

“Cas? Is that you?” Dean listens hopefully but only hears garbled noises and static. “No, I can’t… The reception is terrible in this part of the bunker. Hold on, I’ll just go downstairs…”

He lowers the phone away from his ear and sprints down the hallway. He rushes down the stairs two at a time. When he gets to the next level he picks up the phone again.

“Hello? No… I can’t understand…” He starts down the next flight of stairs and bumps smack into Sam coming up from the lower floor. Sam also has a phone to his ear.

“Was that you?” Dean asks, disappointed.

Sam drops his phone and ends the call. “I’ve been trying to reach you. I got the information you needed.”

Sam hands him a map of Kansas with a triangle drawn on with a thick red sharpie. Dean takes the paper, grabs Sam, and kisses him firmly on the lips.

Dean hears a cough from the hallway followed by what sounds like Charlie’s voice muttering _the Wincest shippers will love that bit._

“How?” Dean asks Sam.

“Don’t even ask,” Sam replies and wipes his mouth with his sleeve, grimacing.

Dean breaks into a grin and bolts out of the stairwell into the hallway. He grabs Charlie as he runs past.

“You got it?” she asks as she struggles to keep up with him.

“YESSS!” Dean hisses, clutching the map triumphantly. He swings open the door to the garage and Charlie passes through. By the time she’s settled into the passenger seat of the Impala, Dean has already turned the key in the ignition.

 

~*~

 

One of the demons handcuffs Cas to a pipe inside an old warehouse. Dorothy, the hunter who had found him by the side of the road, is already cuffed to another.

“What was that all about?” Cas asks her.

Dorothy looks at him as if deciding whether to extend her trust. After a moment, she lets out a breath. “They got it in mind that we have something they want.”

“Do we?” Cas follows up.

Dorothy looks over her shoulder. Abaddon is in the next room roughing up the man who looks like Sam. Cas can’t see what’s going on from where he’s chained, but the shouts and moans of pain coming from the other room are not promising.

“Listen,” Dorothy starts. “That head demon lady back there? She’s trying to make a portal to the future. She thinks there’s some kind of triangle out here what messes with time and all. She’s got an artifact from here and a little town down the road called Lebanon. Just needs the last piece.”

“But Sam knew something,” Cas insists.

“Who?” Dorothy asks.

“Nevermind,” Cas says. “Look, we don’t need any artifact to make a portal to the future. I’m _from_ the future.”

“Not this again,” Dorothy groans.

“No, listen to me,” Cas continues. “I don’t know how I got through, but we have to go back to where you found me. There must be some local instability…”

“Talk sense, loony,” Dorothy cuts in.

“It can be best explained through a series of partial differential equations – ” Cas begins.

“Oh nevermind,” she says with a sigh. “Listen, future boy, if you know so much - why does Abaddon want to take a skip forward in time anyways?”

“She may be chasing someone, or trying to influence an event – whatever it is, it isn’t good, I assure you,” Cas speculates. “We have to stop her. Do you have the artifact? If I take it with me when I go back, she’ll be trapped here.”

“Oh right ‘cause you’re just gonna stroll back into 2030?” Dorothy scoffs.

“2013,” Cas corrects. “And yes, I hope to do exactly that. What is the artificat? Do you have it?”

“It’s a piece of stone with some carvings on it. I don’t know much about it,” Dorothy sighs. “And I don’t have it – another hunter does.”

Cas opens his mouth to ask another question, but quickly shuts it as Abaddon and a couple of her followers stroll into the room.

“One of you has something I need,” she says smoothly. “I know you have it, because I’ve just been told that it is no longer where we knew it to be hidden. Now, tell me where it is.”

She walks up to Dorothy and puts a finger under her chin, lifting her face so they look eye to eye. “You will answer the question or you will die.”

Dorothy spits in her face. Abaddon wipes her face slowly. Her lips curve into a sinister smile. In a flash, she grips Dorothy’s head and twists hard, snapping her neck. Dorothy’s body slumps to the floor.

Abaddon steps over to Cas, her heels clacking loudly on the floor.

“Well, ex-angel,” she purrs. “How does it feel to face your own imminent mortality?”

Cas stares back at her without flinching.

“Tell me now or your life is forfeit,” she warns him.

“I can’t tell you,” he replies. He remembers the time that Dean told him when humans really want something, they lie. “But I can show you – I hid it by the highway outside town.”

Abaddon smirks and takes a step closer.

 

~*~

 

“Dean! Pull over!” Charlie exclaims. “You’re not going to believe this!”

Dean slams on the brakes and pulls the Impala over to the shoulder. “What?”

“There was a shimmering light, like the air was rippling right over there.” Charlie points to a streetlamp about fifty feet down the road. It’s night by now and Dean squints trying to make out anything in the distance.

“That’s where the cross through is?” he asks.

“That’s gotta be it,” she asserts.

“You sure it's not just a trick of the light?” Dean argues.

“Seeing is believing,” Charlie says sagely. She looks toward the spot. “Maybe Cas is right around here.”

Dean puts the car back in drive and inches along the shoulder toward the place Charlie indicated. “Son of a bitch better be.” 

 

~*~

“You’re lying!” Abaddon accuses.

“I’m telling the truth!” Cas insists.

“Shut up! Who has the artifact?” she demands.

“I told you, I hid it back on the highway!” Cas repeats.

Abaddon sighs. “Kill him too."

A crashing sound in the other room captures their attention. Abaddon glances back at Cas then darts off to the other room, her flunkies trailing behind her.

Cas strains and tries to lean out to see what’s going on. He hears the sound of gunshots and more smashing.

A hand covers his mouth and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Shhh,” someone whispers in his ear. “Don’t make any noise. I’m getting you out of here.”

The hand drops and Cas turns around to see Dean’s doppleganger grinning and holding up a key to his handcuffs.

 

~*~

 

Dean stops where Charlie had seen the disturbance. He grabs two flashlights from behind his seat and tosses one to Charlie. They get out of the car and Dean gestures for her to search the opposite side of the road. He takes off into the cornfield, heart thumping in his ears, pushing back the tall stalks with one hand and panning with his flashlight in the other.  

 

~*~

 

“Hey!” Cas calls after Dean once they’re out of the building.

“Hey, what?” Dean shouts back. He turns a corner and stops.

“Come with me,” Cas says when he catches up to him.

“Why should I?” Dean asks skeptically. "There's demons everywhere."

“Because you’re the only one who will help me,” Cas says sincerely. He looks into Dean’s eyes, willing him to trust him. “Please?”

Dean nods in acquiescence. “My car’s two streets over.”

Cas doesn’t pause to thank him but just takes off sprinting again. He looks over his shoulder and sees Dean a few paces behind.

“We must hurry,” Cas says urgently. He reaches back for Dean’s hand as they run. Dean looks at him, surprised, but doesn’t pull away.

They round a corner and nearly collide with two of Abaddon’s minions.

“Stop right there!” one of the goons bellows at them. “Stand still or I will kill you.”

“Hands up!” the other one yells. “Behind your heads, do it!”

Dean sighs and puts his hands behind his head. Cas follows suit.

“Now what, Einstein?” Dean mutters.

Cas sends him an apologetic look.

They hear a swishing sound as a machete glides through the air. The heads of the demons drop to the ground. Their bodies crumple and fall, revealing Sam standing behind them with a wicked smile on his bloodied face.

“Now get your asses out of here,” Sam says.

Dean breathes a thanks as they break away again. His black 1939 Chevy is at the end of the block. Dean jumps into the driver’s side and Cas swings into shotgun. Dean slams the accelerator and the tires squeal as they take off down the highway.

 

~*~

 

Dean leaps over a rough patch of plowed dirt and emerges in a clearing in the field.

“CAASSSS!!” he yells out. No answer.

“CHAARLIIE!!” he shouts now. Silence. He turns and dives back into the rows of corn.

 

~*~

 

“Stop right here,” Cas says suddenly and grabs Dean’s right arm.

 “What are you doing?” Dean asks. He slams on the brakes and pulls over to the side of the road.

“You’ve got to let me out,” Cas says.

“Here? Now?” Dean says incredulously.

“I can’t stay. I’ve got to get back to history,” Cas explains.

“What?” Dean’s face is scrunched in an expression that Cas recognizes as rapidly losing patience.

Cas turns in his seat and grabs Dean by the upper arms. He looks at him intently. “And you have to rescue it. Listen, I passed through a kind of time warp – a rift in space. It was right here.”

“Are you crazy?” Dean spits out.

“You know Einstein? He predicts the theoretical possibility,” Cas says. “And as an angel, I was able to move through time before –  ”

“Pfft angels,” Dean scoffs. “If I believed you – and I’m not saying I do – so what?”

“I think you have the artifact. If you don’t give it to me and let me go back, the future I know won’t exist,” Cas says.

“Uh…” Dean seems unconvinced.

“And neither will you,” Cas continues.

Dean quirks an eyebrow. “Okay…” He hands Cas the small, carved figure. Cas pockets it then puts his hand back on Dean’s arm.

Cas takes a deep breath. “So, in case we never meet again…”

He pulls Dean close and kisses him long and hard. Dean freezes for just a moment before he gives in and kisses back. Cas finally releases him and gazes wide eyed at Dean. Dean stares back, expression betraying nothing, then pulls back his right fist and punches him squarely in the jaw. Cas doubles over and rubs the tender point of impact. Dean shakes out his hand and winces.

After a moment, Cas looks up fondly at Dean one last time, then opens the passenger door and jumps out. 

 

~*~

 

When Cas wakes up, he’s lying uncomfortably on his back in a bed. He squints at the overhead lights. A familiar voice calls to him from somewhere in the distance.

“Cas? Cas, it’s me.” the voice says.

“Dean?” Cas asks. He blinks a few times until a worried face comes into focus above him. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the bunker,” Dean replies.

Cas tries to sit up and groans as he feels a sharp pain in his head.

“Lie still,” Dean tells him firmly. He puts a hand on Cas’s shoulder to help steady him as he lies back down.

“I feel…” Cas struggles to describe the sensation. “Terrible.”

“I don’t blame you,” Dean replies with a soft chuckle. “You’ve been through the wringer, I’d say.”

Cas tilts his head and tries to collect his thoughts. “What happened to me?”

“You did something incredibly stupid,” Dean scoffs, “even for you.”

“What?” Cas asks.

“You tried to pull a Forrest Gump and cross the country on just your own two feet," Dean explains. "You got caught in the Bermuda Triangle. Of Kansas.”

“What?” Cas is really confused now.

Just then Charlie bursts into the room.

“Look who’s back from over the rainbow!” she exclaims as she approaches Cas’s bedside.

“You were there!” Cas says, remembering now.

“Hmm?” Dean looks at him questioningly.

“You were there, Dean,” Cas insists.

Charlie makes a face and turns to Dean. “He’s delirious.”

Cas catches sight of Sam coming through the door and declares, “And he was there too!”

“Right…” Sam says wryly, “Me and my dog Toto.”

“No, Toto’s a hunter. You were one of the Men of Letters.” Cas reaches into his pocket but finds it empty. “The artifact… I must have dropped it by the road…”

“Cas, will you settle down?” Dean says with a hint of exasperation.

Cas looks up at him with a loopy grin. Dean is leaning against the bed. Cas reaches out and rests his arm over the edge, his hand trailing against Dean’s hip. Dean gives him a curious look.

“You saved the world, Dean,” Cas tells him.

“Yeah…” Dean replies. He pauses, contemplating whether it’s worth it to try to reason with an ex-angel doped up on painkillers. “You’re right, I did.”

“What kind of drugs is he on?” Charlie asks with a laugh. “I want some.”

“No, I found you at Miss Gulch’s and later we ran away together… I told you to stop the car and then I jumped out.”

“Yeah, I bet you did,” Dean says indulgently. “Look, I don’t know what happened to you. I just know we found you passed out on the side of the road with a big bump on your head.”

“No, no!” Cas protests. “You and I were there, Dean! In 1939!”

“Get some rest, Cas,” Sam says. He nods to Charlie and the two exit the room.

Cas turns to Dean and looks into his eyes intently. “I would’ve never seen you again. But you believed me.”

“In your dreams.” Dean adopts a condescending tone as he continues. “Cas, I want you to close your eyes and I want you to think to yourself ‘there’s no place like home.’”

Cas closes his eyes for a moment and smiles slightly. Dean pats him on the arm then turns to leave.

“Hey, Dean - ” Cas calls out to stop him.

Dean makes a martyr’s face, but comes back and leans over him, waiting. “Yes?”

“I love you,” Cas says seriously.

“Oh brother,” Dean mutters. He rolls his eyes and leaves the room.

Cas frowns, hurt that Dean didn’t believe him. He rolls over to find a more comfortable position but winces when it puts pressure on the right side of his jaw where the Dean of 1939 had punched him. He gazes after the receding back of the Dean of the present – his Dean – and smiles.


End file.
